Coitus Interruptus
by hwshipper
Summary: House Wilson established relationship. Phone calls and visitors in the middle of the night, sex. Post 4.09 Games.


**TITLE:** Coitus Interruptus  
**AUTHOR:** hwshipper  
**DISCLAIMER:** All characters belong to Heel and Toe Films, Shore Z Productions and Bad Hat Harry Productions in association with Universal Media Studios.  
**SUMMARY: **House, Wilson, phone calls and visitors in the middle of the night, sex. Post 4.09 _Games_.  
**A/N**: Plot bunny from the guys on the HoYay thread at HHOW.  
**BETA: **a big virtual hug for bornbeautiful

**Coitus Interruptus **

House was sound asleep in bed when a loud bell rang out from next to his ear and woke him. It kept ringing until he couldn't ignore it any longer. He raised his head and glowered at the clock through half-closed eyes. 2:19 AM. Godamnit, he saw that time often enough on those insomniac nights when he just stayed up playing the piano into the small hours. He did not like seeing it from his bed, when he'd actually been asleep.

The phone was still ringing. He grabbed it and barked into the receiver, "Yeah."

"Our patient's crashed." Further explanatory incoherent babbling came down the phone line. "He's stable now, but—"

"He's stable, so leave it for the fucking morning." House slammed down the receiver and buried his face in the pillow.

"Who was that?" a voice mumbled from next to him.

House rolled onto his side and looked at Wilson, sleepy, rumpled, curled up beside him. Wilson's eyes were shut and a strand of hair stuck out at a strange angle behind one ear. A thin ray of light peeking through the curtains ran across his bare chest.

"Taub. These new staff have got to learn," House said, his vindictiveness seeping away at the sight of Wilson. He reached out and gently smoothed down the stray strand of hair. His fingers lingered on Wilson's ear, caressed Wilson's cheek.

"Mmph," Wilson murmured in response, nuzzling House's hand.

Wilson then turned over so he was facing away from House, and shifted over towards House so his body rested against House's body, his back pressed up against House's chest. House relished the feel of Wilson's hair brushing softly against his face; Wilson's smooth back arched against his chest; Wilson's ass snuggling up against his groin. House reached out and rested his hand on Wilson's hip; his bare hip, they were both naked.

The two of them nestled comfortably together like spoons for a while, and after ten minutes or so House started to drift off again, only to be rudely woken once more by the phone. He let it ring a couple of times, hoping it would just stop. He felt Wilson shift underneath his arm. Then Wilson muttered, "_House._ Answer the damn thing_."_

They were doctors, after all; it went against the grain not to answer the phone. House reached out backwards blindly, snatched up the receiver, held it to his ear and rasped, "You're fired."

"Uh, House?" It was Kutner, sounding nervous but apparently prepared to ignore what House had just said. "Patient's not stable anymore. He started vomiting blood, and he's not stopping."

"Fuck." House digested this information blearily through his sleep-fogged brain. Possibly this couldn't wait until a decent hour of the morning. "You win, I'll come in. Gimme an hour." House looked across the bed, and saw a bright brown eye looking back at him. "Right after I've finished having sex with Wilson," he added, and banged down the phone.

House felt Wilson's body vibrating with silent laughter. Then Wilson asked, "Taub again?"

"Kutner. He won't know if I was serious or jerking him around," House said with satisfaction. "He already half suspects we're doing it after he saw us fighting in my office the other day."

"Right." Wilson yawned and stretched, and turned over to look mischievously up at House. "So... _were_ you serious, or just jerking him around?"

House hadn't been serious, but hesitated at the impish look in Wilson's eye. "What, you wanna jerk _me _around? Didn't we just do this a few hours ago?"

In answer, Wilson pushed himself up on an elbow and planted his lips firmly on House's. The two of them kissed deeply for a moment. Wilson then put a hand on the middle of House's chest and pushed House gently down onto his back. House resisted for a second before submitting and lying down. Wilson then slithered down the bed a few inches, and then House felt Wilson's palm wrapping itself around his cock. House shut his eyes and inhaled sharply; Wilson rolled his hand up and down a couple of times, and House felt his cock start to harden with a vengeance. He could feel Wilson's cock starting to push against his hip, too.

"I think," Wilson murmured, "if you want to keep messing with Kutner's head, when you walk in your office in an hour's time, you should totally look like you've just had some."

"And that's—the only reason—you're doing this," House said between small gasps, as Wilson's hand kept moving back and forth.

"No, actually I just want to fuck you." Wilson's hand suddenly moved away, and House let out a small yelp of dismay; but Wilson was only rolling over to reach into the bedside drawer. His hand returned a minute later, this time both hands, slippery now, one returning to stroke House's cock and the other reaching lower, probing his ass, first one finger and then another, gliding in and out. House moaned, bit his lip and ground fiercely into Wilson's fist.

"Not so fast," Wilson panted, slowing his movements, and then stopping. "Turn over."

House opened his eyes and made a token grumbling sound, which they both knew he didn't mean in the slightest, then flopped over onto his stomach. He looked around to see Wilson propping himself up on one hand, and then swinging a leg across House's body. House felt his heart start to pound into his ribs at the sight of Wilson, naked, straddling him, rolling on a condom. He felt Wilson's cock, rock hard now, pushing against his bare ass. House raised himself carefully, taking as much weight as possible on his hands and his good leg; he didn't do kneeling well, but Wilson was there with a pillow to cushion his other leg.

Wilson pressed the length of his body against House's, leaning forward to suck gently at House's earlobe. Then Wilson reached back with one hand to guide his cock towards House's ass. House gasped with pain and pleasure as Wilson thrust first gently, then harder, up inside him, Wilson muttering, _"Oh. Yeah. House._" House took him in, willed himself to relax, felt it get easier, felt his own cock hard and straining, Wilson's short sharp breaths on his neck -

And then the phone rang _again_.

House only dimly registered what it was, and anyway needed both arms to support himself.

Wilson reached out, grabbed the handset, and held it up to House's ear.

"House?" Cuddy's voice sounded very far away, but House could hear her clearly, and he knew Wilson could too, his head just a few inches from House's, his hand gripping the receiver. "Sorry to bother you at this time of night."

"S'okay," House gasped. He felt Wilson's mouth biting at his earlobe, Wilson's forehead knocking against the side of his head, Wilson's chest pressed against his back, Wilson's cock pumping deep inside him.

"I'm trying to get hold of Wilson," Cuddy continued, apparently not suspecting anything was amiss. "One of his patients has been admitted as an emergency. He'd want to know, but he's not picking up his home phone or his pager and his cell's turned off. I was wondering if he was with you?"

_With me? You betcha life,_ House thought, dazedly. Wilson's hand holding the receiver shook, and House's body trembled and juddered as Wilson continued to thrust up inside House, with even more intensity than before. Somehow House found the power of speech, and uttered a few jerky words between thrusts, hoping the disjointed words could be put down to having just woken up. "Yeah—he's here—crashed on my couch last night—I'll wake him—call you back—"

Wilson ended the call and dropped the phone onto the bed. He then used his newly freed hand to reach round and grasp House's cock; House let out a stifled gasp of _"Fuck!"_ and then as Wilson rolled his hand backwards and forwards, House climaxed into Wilson's fist just as Wilson came with a final agonized thrust up inside House. The two of them collapsed in a heap.

House, utterly spent, couldn't move, couldn't speak anymore, could hardly even hear or see. Wilson was still for a few seconds, panting hard into the back of House's neck, then rolled away to take his weight off of House. House experienced a sharp twinge in his leg, but felt incapable of doing anything about it right now. Wilson looked at House, and House looked back into those brown eyes, trying to convey _Fuck that was good _with his gaze. Wilson looked pleased, so House thought he'd succeeded.

After a minute or two, when his breath had slowed, Wilson groped for the phone which he found he was lying partially on top of, picked it up with his clean hand, and dialed. When he spoke, his voice sounded enviably normal. "Cuddy? It's Wilson."

House watched through his eyelashes as Wilson listened to Cuddy speak for a moment, then said, "No, that's fine, I'm glad you rang. Sorry, I don't know where my pager's got to. I'll be in as soon as I can."

House could only admire Wilson's tone, a bit puffed, but no more than could reasonably be expected if he had just woken up. House wondered if he should point out that Wilson's pager was in the pocket of his pants, which had been discarded next to the couch in the living room the previous evening, but decided that Wilson already knew that.

Wilson ended the call, and said to House, "Looks like I'm coming with you."

"Thought you just did," House couldn't help but respond, and Wilson smiled broadly. Wilson lay still for a minute, then heaved himself up, kissed House on the mouth, got up and padded off to the bathroom.

Still sapped of energy, House figured he might as well close his eyes again; Wilson would wake him up again in a minute. House pulled the bedcovers up around him, and fell asleep almost immediately. He dozed, faintly aware of where he, knowing that he had to get up soon, and conscious of Wilson splashing away in the bathroom. Part of his brain dimly registered a knocking sound, but didn't recognize what it was.

Then suddenly a hand touched his shoulder, and a new voice said, loud and close, "House?"

"Huh?" House woke abruptly and turned his head. Standing a few feet away was... _"Cameron?"_

She blushed. "I'm sorry—I did knock. Kutner said you were coming in to the hospital, and I was just going off shift from the ER, so I thought I'd drop by and give you a ride..."

_I bet you did_, thought House as Cameron's voice trailed away in confusion. She looked around the room. House saw it as she must be seeing it; bedclothes in chaos, pillows all over the place, and a musk of sweat and bodily fluids hanging over the bed. If she'd walked into the living room she'd have seen clothes all over the floor.

He was mentally composing a stinging reply to her, his brain working more slowly than usual, when he saw Wilson in the bedroom doorway.

Clad only in boxer shorts, leaning on the doorframe, Wilson looked completely relaxed and at home. His hair was totally mussed up, and his eyes gleamed in quiet satisfaction. He was the living definition of _post-coital_.

"It's OK, Cameron," Wilson said smoothly. "I've got to go in to work too. I'll give him a ride."

Cameron took it very well, House had to give her credit. "Oh, that's fine, I guess I'll go home then. Um, see you later." She departed, walking past Wilson with quick, dignified strides.

House and Wilson looked at each other, Wilson grinning, House smirking, and then Wilson came and perched on the bed next to House and said, "Well, that's ended her fairytale. What an interrupted night it's been. You think Kutner put her up to coming here?"

"Yeah, without telling her what she might find. Remind me not to fire him, the sneaky bastard," House said with grudging admiration.

* * *

House and Wilson arrived at the hospital half an hour later. The building was dim and mostly quiet. They passed Weird Night Janitor mopping the floor in the lobby. 

"I hope I look sufficiently fucked?" House muttered to Wilson, in the elevator, one eyebrow raised in query.

"Yeah. But this'll help too." Wilson leaned forward and kissed House on the mouth. House was initially caught off-balance, but then responded readily, taking Wilson's lower lip between his teeth and tugging gently. They stood there necking like teenagers for a minute, until the elevator doors opened. They walked out together towards their offices.

Thirteen, Taub and Kutner were visible in the Diagnostics conference room, sitting round the table, all three of them looking exhausted and dejected. They looked up as House and Wilson approached.

At the sight of Wilson with House, Kutner's eyebrows went into orbit.

"Excellent," House said with satisfaction, as they stopped in the corridor outside House's office.

"See you later. Breakfast?" Wilson asked. House nodded. Wilson nodded back, smiled, turned and walked off towards his office.

House paused for a few seconds, smiling at Wilson's departing back, then turned and pushed the door open to the conference room.

END


End file.
